The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon: A Cats in Trouble Mystery

by Leann Sweeney

  “Are you kidding? I thought he—”

  “Hates the mental cases? He does. But Deputy Rodriguez is good with them. I’ve been asking for more help ever since the murder. Maybe the chief will listen when he comes back from his lunch with the mayor and approve some overtime.” Candace wiped an arm across her brow. “We’re sweating in here like pigs and he’s at the Finest Catch having lake trout seared in lemon butter.”

  “Perks of the job,” I said.

  “We need to hunt down Gannon and explain how harassment and stalking are serious problems, especially for an ex-con. Then we can bring up any recent phone calls.”

  “Will police pressure make him stop following us?” I asked.

  “Probably not,” she said, but then her eyes brightened. “But if we catch him at it, we may learn a few important details. We have his plate number and a description of him and his car. Shouldn’t be too hard, if the chief gives his approval.”

  “Funny how he’s acting all concerned about his boy, as he calls Finn,” I said, “and yet he hasn’t shown up here at the police station to see what’s going on.”

  “Because he doesn’t give a flip about Finn. You know it and I know it. Gannon came here on a mission—and I wish Nolan Roth could tell us why.”

  We walked out of the break room together in time to see Morris open the door of the interrogation room and step into the hall. He closed the door after him.

  “Where the heck have you been?” he said, ignoring me and staring pointedly at the water bottle in Candace’s hand.

  “Did he confess yet, partner?” Candace said.

  “He’s not saying squat,” Morris said. “Where’s my water? Or was visiting with your friend more important than helping your partner?”

  “You’re the one who decided to sweat the suspect. The suspect who’s innocent. I told you already I know what happened, but maybe getting you some water will help you turn down your cranky factor.” She went back to the break room.

  Morris looked at me. “Oh, so she knows what happened. She always knows. Sorry. Dealing with juveniles makes me ornery. How are you today, Jillian?”

  Before I could answer, Candace returned with two bottles of water. “Let’s talk to Finn—all three of us.”

  This particular interrogation room was less cozy than the one we were in yesterday. For one thing, it smelled like vomit. A bench lined one wall and Finn sat there, his back straight, his hands clenched in his lap. A table bolted to the floor was in front of him and two wooden chairs faced him.

  When Finn saw me, his stoic expression softened. “Hey, Jillian. Sorry to cause you so much trouble.”

  “You haven’t caused me any problems,” I said. “I want to help you and, believe it or not, these police officers do, too. I never believed you killed Nolan Roth, and now the police have the evidence to show you didn’t.”

  I sat on the bench next to Finn. Candace and Morris took the chairs. Candace set a bottle of water in front of Finn.

  “She’s right,” Candace said. “We do need to find a murderer, though. To do that, we have to process the evidence. You know what that means, right?”

  “Just ’cause I’m not in college doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” Finn said.

  “Remember how I swabbed your mouth for DNA?” Candace said.

  Finn nodded.

  “What if your DNA would help us prove you didn’t kill Nolan Roth?” Candace said.

  Morris, who had finished off his water in two long gulps, said, “Here we go, kid. The evidence queen is hard at work.”

  The water seemed to have improved Morris’s disposition.

  “But you told me after Deputy Carson left that you liked the evidence queen,” Finn said, amusement showing in his eyes.

  Morris almost smiled. “Hey. Don’t go telling my secrets.”

  I said, “As you can see, these are good, honest people.” I picked up his hand in both my own and squeezed. “There’s a murderer out there, and they’ll find out who it is. The good news is, it looks like you left evidence in Tom’s car—evidence that explains how you were injured. Candace showed me how it happened.”

  “Really?” Finn said. “Tell me.”

  “I might have to show you—just like Candace showed me,” I said.

  “Go for it,” Finn said.

  Eighteen

  We were all leaving the interrogation room when I saw Tom standing in the waiting room.

  “You all look… relaxed. Does this mean Finn can leave now, Candace?” Tom said. “And when did you arrive, Jillian?”

  “In time to hear about the CSI stuff Candace has been doing,” I said.

  “Yeah. It’s way cool, Tom. She figured out how I hit my head,” Finn said.

  “Listen, y’all must be as hungry as I am,” Morris said. “Take this kid to eat and he can fill you in. He needs some meat on his bones.” He turned in the direction of the break room and walked away.

  Tom smiled. “Sounds like a plan. I take it Finn won’t be needing the lawyer I couldn’t reach?”

  “Nope, but I have more questions for you, Tom,” Candace said.

  “About what?” he said. “Because my jaw is getting tired talking about what happened.”

  “It’s about the calls and texts we found on your phone when we took it from the wreck,” she said. “But first, I have to call the crime lab about Finn’s DNA results. Can we talk later?”

  “What about Finn’s DNA?” Tom said.

  “I believe his DNA will rule him out as a suspect,” Candace said. “Now, I really have to get busy.”

  “I’ll explain what she’s talking about,” I said. “Finn’s interview is over and we can leave.”

  As we walked through the courthouse toward the front entrance, I offered a shortened version of what Candace figured out and why she needed Finn’s DNA results.

  “Deputy Carson gets so excited about this forensic stuff,” Finn said. “She’s way into it.”

  Before Tom could respond, we saw Karen coming toward us, her straight midcalf skirt making it difficult for her to travel as quickly as she might have.

  When she reached us, she pulled Finn to her and hugged him tightly.

  “I see Candace has released you,” Karen said. “I knew she’d come to her senses. You could never hurt a living soul.”

  Finn gently pulled away. “They’re just doing their job, Nana. I did have Nolan’s blood on my sweatshirt.”

  Karen’s eyes widened. “Oh my. But you’re free? They didn’t arrest you?”

  He smiled. “Nope.”

  “How did you find out he was talking to the police?” Tom said.

  “I had a visit from the last person on earth I thought I’d be talking to,” she said. “Your brother. He told me you were making calls to find an attorney for Finn and he thought I should know.”

  Tom’s eyes hardened. “I wondered where Bob was going when I left for here. But of course he left his stuff, so I figured he’d be back—unfortunately.”

  “Interesting how the son I haven’t heard from in years is the one who decided to inform me about what’s going on.” She stared at Tom, a look of disapproval I was certain he was familiar with.

  “You’re making him sound heroic,” Tom said. “Bob wants something—what, I’m not sure yet. It will come out, though. He knows how much you care about Finn and he used it as an excuse to visit you.”

  “You could be right, but he says he wants to apologize to his family,” Karen said. “I had to rush over here, but he’s waiting back at the house for my return. We can all go over to my home and talk.”

  “No way,” Tom said.

  Finn said, “How will you find out what Bob wants if you don’t talk to him?”

  “He’s right,” I said.

  Since we’d all ganged up on him, Tom reluctantly agreed to go to his mother’s house and we arrived five minutes later in our various vehicles.

  Karen didn’t smile when she greeted Bob, just said, “Here we are. Time for you to own u
p, Robert.”

  His crooked smile appeared. “I—I didn’t expect so many… well, everybody. Glad to see Finn isn’t in jail, though.” He held up his knuckles and he and Finn exchanged a fist bump. “They grill you, bro?” Bob said.

  “It wasn’t like that. They’re trying hard to find out the truth.” Finn glanced around the room, avoiding Bob’s stare.

  “I have more of the soda pop you like so much,” Karen said. “Come with me.”

  She and Finn went to the kitchen.

  I did not want to be left with these two men. The awkward silence now filling the space made me want to run out to my van and not come back until they’d settled their long-running differences. Wait. What made me think they could actually settle anything? A command from Karen to do so? Men resolved things so differently than women, after all.

  “Well,” I said, clasping my hands and smiling. “Here we are.”

  “Right where we don’t want to be,” Tom said.

  His voice held a hint of futility and frustration. How could I help Tom? Especially now, with the events of the last few days weighing so heavily on him? I didn’t know what to do, so I said, “I’m hungry. Anyone else?”

  A meal can unify people for a short time. I guess that’s part of why we celebrate Thanksgiving. But as we ate tuna salad sandwiches and homemade vegetable soup, I didn’t see much unification happening.

  We sat without anyone saying a word and I was beginning to wonder if Karen regretted inviting Bob into her home.

  When I could no longer stand the quiet, I said, “Is Ed at work?”

  “Yes,” Karen said.

  “Does he still collect stuff?” Finn asked.

  “Too much stuff,” Karen said with a smile. At least one person in the room remained in Karen’s good graces.

  “Why are you here, Bob?” Tom said, staring down at his soup.

  At last the elephant of a question was finally addressed.

  “Can’t a man visit his family?” Bob said.

  “Oh sure. After five years you come to town and break into my house while I’m not there. Nice way to visit.” Tom still hadn’t looked at Bob.

  “You broke into his house, Robert?” Karen said.

  “I waited outside, but when he didn’t show for hours and hours, I needed the restroom—and something to eat,” Bob said. “Mom, this soup is awesome, by the way. Just like I remember.”

  Tom set his spoon down and glared at Bob. “You could have gone into town, to a restaurant and—”

  “I’m having a little cash flow problem,” Bob said.

  Finn watched this exchange like he was at a tennis match, eyes wide with interest.

  “You’ve had money problems your whole life. Why are you here now?” Tom said. “What’s the plan, Bob? Because you always have one.”

  “I was expecting an apology,” Karen said.

  “I’m sure you were. Answer me this, Mom,” Bob said, every drop of charisma evaporated. “If I were being intimidated by the cops, would you have left in a frantic rush to save me?”

  Finn said, “I—I wasn’t really being intimidated.”

  But Karen and Bob didn’t seem to hear him. Color blossomed on Karen’s cheeks. “You’re a grown man and yet you’re still stuck in the past, believing I favor—”

  “You do favor. You favor Tom and you favor Finn. Me and Charlie? We’re just dirt on your shoe.” Bob looked at me. “I have a twin brother. Did anyone tell you about him?”

  I didn’t get a chance to reply because Bob stood and threw his napkin on the table. “I only took what was rightfully mine.” He pointed at his mother. “I will again, too.”

  “Rightfully yours?” Karen said, her anger building. “How can you say—”

  Someone knocked.

  Karen rose, but Bob made it to the door in a flash. My guess, he was relieved by the distraction. I feared Rory Gannon was about to make another appearance, but the voice I heard say, “Why, hello there,” was female.

  Hilary Roth had arrived.

  Karen hurried through the dining room and out to the small foyer to greet the new arrival.

  Tom leaned back in his chair, his face to the ceiling. “More trouble,” he said. “Just what we need.”

  “It’s my mother, isn’t it?” Finn said as the murmur of greetings spilled into the room. He stood. “I don’t want to talk to her.”

  “I don’t either. That’s why you and I are heading out the back door and going to my house.” Tom looked at me. “Would you mind running interference?”

  “Sure. Go on,” I said.

  They disappeared through the kitchen and I went to the living room.

  Bob was smiling broadly at Hilary, all the resentment from a few minutes ago gone.

  “Finnian,” Karen called. “Your mother would like to talk to you.”

  I motioned Karen aside as Bob and Hilary chatted. I whispered, “Finn isn’t quite ready to talk to his mother. He and Tom left.”

  “Oh. I see.” She patted my arm. “It’s not your fault, so don’t look so guilty. Hilary is not the monster those two make her out to be. Please give her a chance by staying for a while and getting to know her. Maybe Finn and Tom will listen to you once you understand her better.”

  “Sure. I can stay,” I said, forcing a smile. But I wanted to be home with my fur friends, not here playing a game of “Get to Know the Ex-wife.” I’d give Karen fifteen minutes and then I was out of here.

  Karen said, “Can I fix you lunch, Hilary?”

  Hilary wore a ruby-red sweater and black slacks, the colors complementing her dark beauty. “No thanks. I ate while I was trying to reach my attorney. Unfortunately, he cannot help Finn here in South Carolina.”

  “Finn’s not in jail,” Bob said. “The way he talked, sounds like he might not need a lawyer after all.”

  Hilary said, “The deputies told me he was gone when I went to the police station. That doesn’t mean he won’t need a lawyer in the future, though.”

  “He’s not guilty of anything,” Karen said. “Not one thing.”

  Hilary said, “Your belief in Finn warms my heart.” She turned to me. “They told me he left with Tom and with you, Jillian.”

  “Yes, we did leave together,” I said.

  When I didn’t add any more information about Tom or Finn, Hilary addressed Karen. “No one was home at Tom’s house, so I figured he brought Finn here. Can I see him now?” Hilary walked toward the dining room. “We need to talk. I need to tell him how sorry I am for—”

  “He’s not here,” Karen said. “At least not right now.”

  Hilary halted. “Oh.” She looked crestfallen.

  Bob said, “You know how stubborn Tom can be. You staying in town?”

  Guess he’d gotten over his hurt feelings where his family was concerned. Especially since someone as lovely as Hilary was around to divert his attention.

  She said, “I found this wonderful little B&B. Reasonably priced with fantastic food.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed under her nose. “It’s been nice to have such a comfortable place to stay under such stressful circumstances.”

  “Yes, well, Nolan was a troubled man,” Karen said, “though as you told me not long ago, you had no idea how troubled until he was released from prison.” Karen looked at me. “Mr. Roth used to be a police officer and Tom’s partner. Poor Tom was forced to turn him in to the authorities.”

  “Forced?” Bob said. “Tom ruined Finn’s family because he was jealous.”

  I wanted to sock Bob Cochran in the mouth about then. I’d had about all I could stand of this self-serving man-child. Instead, I said, “I’m not sure you completely understand, Bob.”

  “Really? And you do after knowing my brother for how long? A year, tops?” Bob said.

  Hilary rested a hand on Bob’s arm. “Please. Don’t blame Tom, and be kind to Jillian. She has been so kind to my son. Nolan fooled me. He fooled a lot of people. Now that they’ve cleared Finn, I believe they should start look
ing at who Nolan was doing business with.”

  “Drugs again?” Karen said.

  Hilary nodded solemnly. “I tried to tell the police chief as much. But they seemed fixated on Finn and even Tom. He does seem to have been in a fight. Do you know how he got so banged up?”

  “He won’t tell me,” Karen said. “But I’m sure it has nothing to do with Mr. Roth’s demise.”

  “Oh, of course not. Because Tom can do no wrong,” Bob said.

  Karen leveled one of her famous steely stares at Bob. “It could have been that terrible man who came here last night.” Karen turned to Hilary. “Knowing you, it’s impossible to picture you with Mr. Gannon. He’s a frightful person.”

  Hilary paled. “Rory? Here? Oh my goodness. Nolan must have called him before— Oh, this is not good. Did Finn talk to him?”

  She sounded frightened—and who could blame her? But I didn’t want to listen to a rehash of Rory Gannon’s visit, so I decided it was time to leave. I said, “I have quilts to finish for Christmas orders. I did enjoy lunch, Karen. Thanks for having me.” I sidled past Hilary and Bob, muttering my good-byes to them.

  Once I reached my van and started the ignition, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Why do Southern-raised women like me have to be so darn polite? And why did I want to slug all three of those people?

  Nineteen

  On my way home to get a much-needed dose of kitty and puppy love, I called Tom’s landline. When he answered, sounding gruff and as agitated as I felt, I said, “I’m headed home. You can drop Finn off anytime.”

  Tom said, “Sorry if I sounded rude, but I didn’t even look at the caller ID. I thought my mother or Bob was calling, hoping to get me back over to Mom’s house for the reunion. Someone needs to tell my mother there’s no such thing as time machines.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said.

  “She wants things to be like they were before Hilary decided to sleep with my partner,” he said. “Everything went downhill after Hilary hooked up with Nolan.”

  “Five years ago? What did your marriage problems have to do with Karen and Bob’s issues?” I pulled into my driveway, relieved not to see a beat-up blue sedan hanging around the neighborhood.